


Daisychain

by ShatteredSwallowtail



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 15:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20548130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredSwallowtail/pseuds/ShatteredSwallowtail





	Daisychain

Some girls were just meant to smile. That was something he hadn't ever really thought about much, at least... not until he looked at her. She'd been just another girl in his class, another face among the other nameless smiling ones, giggling on one side of the room at lunch over whatever inane thing it was that girls talked about. He didn't know, and frankly he'd never really cared to know. It simply wasn't important to him.

He'd noticed it at first when Kurosaki had, in his normal oafish and unintentional way, brought them all together. That she was different than the others. Maybe it was the simple fact that he didn't pay hardly any attention to the other girls that her differences were brought up into sharp relief, or maybe it was just that he was actually paying attention now. But she _was_ different, and not just in the obvious physical ways that everyone seemed to always be pointing out.

She wasn't only different, she was strong. But not in the way that everyone else was. And that was why, as much as she was strong, she was also fragile. Inoue wasn't the same sort of girl as Kuchiki or that short-haired friend of hers, but it wasn't because they were strong and she wasn't. Her strength just wasn't located in her physical form. And while he hadn't forgotten what she'd said about being a black belt -- though Ishida had to admit he wouldn't have believed it at first -- he knew perfectly well that Inoue Orihime's strength was housed in her heart instead of her fists or a sword.

It showed in everything that she did, in the way she approached anything and everything with a laugh and that same gentle smile. People just didn't smile like that nowadays. At least, most people didn't. The world was such a jaded and dark place most of the time that those sorts of feelings withered away and died amidst the ugliness all around. But not her.

He admired that about her, as much as it made him want to protect her.

Protect her not just from the things in life that would threaten her, but from the things in life that threatened to strip that smile away from her. Protect her from the cruelties that he knew were a part of life's path and nonetheless wanted to sweep away so that her tender person would never have to suffer them. It was why he had to bite back the anger that always rose as he watched Kurosaki time and time again thoughtlessly and unknowingly throw aside the feelings she held for him. Not because he expected Kurosaki, of all people, to be tactful or even cognizent of them -- he didn't -- but because someone like her, someone who gave so selflessly of herself _deserved_ to be happy. Deserved to be cherished and protected and cared for. Things he knew perfectly well that the orange-haired shinigami couldn't give her.

Just as he knew that, regardless of what happened between her and his acquaintance -- he could never bring himself to call the shinigami "friend" -- she would still smile, still hold back the tears as she was doing now, sitting silently at her desk and braiding together the pile of daisies she'd gathered during lunch while waiting fruitlessly for the absent orange-head. She would keep smiling, because she was Orihime. And some girls were just meant to smile, in spite of the pain.


End file.
